


i think i've lost my mind

by problems_butJJ



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mental Breakdown, Panic Attacks, Toby Smith | Tubbo and TommyInnit Run Away, but kinda, not really - Freeform, ok im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:07:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27338422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/problems_butJJ/pseuds/problems_butJJ
Summary: was he losing his fucking mind? he tried so hard to think of what could have happened to cause this panic but he realized with wide eyes that he couldn’t remember his own name.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 10
Kudos: 342





	i think i've lost my mind

tommy should have seen this coming.

he’d finally gotten to a point where he was finally able to _rest_ , the breakdown was obviously on the horizon. he just didn’t know it was going to be this bad.

the slow crawls of unreasonable panic were beginning to claw and tear at his resolve to stay at the task at hand. he’d barely gathered any wood he had to -- he and tubbo ( _who was that again?_ ) were building a barn for… for what?

why were they building a barn?

he looked down at his hands and the netherite axe in his dominant hand and a bee tattoo on the opposite wrist.

_a pink-haired man slashing at people he knew, his soulmate standing next to him, yelling--_

he dropped the axe like it had burned him. maybe it had, he couldn’t tell. everything was just numb and he couldn’t remember anything, just that there was _panic_ and _danger_. 

“ _tommy_ ,” he heard from behind him. he didn’t know a tommy but when had someone gotten here? he whipped around, expecting someone to be there _but not one was there_. a wave of panic hit him so hard that he fell on his ass.

was he losing his fucking mind? he tried so hard to think of what could have happened to cause this panic but he realized with wide eyes that _he couldn’t remember his own name_.

the only thing he could remember was the disgusting touches on his skin from that ram-horned man… he remembered that _he deserved it_ , the man had told him, and he believed him so, so much. it was his fault… all his fucking fault. he couldn’t remember why it was his fault but it had to be true because it’s the only thing he can truly _remember_ , which was actually quite terrifying to think about.

he didn’t realize his vision of the forest was fading into static, but he did vaguely notice the warm tears trailing down his cheeks. how did those get there? his body gave a wet chuckle, and he realized that he was sad. why was he sad?

his mind’s threads were quickly unravelling; the cloth of his mind fraying, tattered and beaten. the clashing inside his mind and the ghost touches on his skin were reaching a crescendo, and everything abruptly stopped. it was all quiet. 

it had never been this quiet in the fabric of his mind. his surroundings (where was he?) slowly became clear, the static left his vision and in front of him was a small brunette boy ( _his soulmate_ , his mind supplied. but who was he?) saying someone’s name. it must have been his name (he couldn’t remember, who couldn’t he remember) because they were the only people around for miles.

“tommy? hey, tommy,” the brunette was shaking his shoulders. his eyes flicked quickly to the brunette’s wrist, where a tattoo of two records ( _cat and mellohi_ ) sat.

“w… who’s tommy? who are you?” he asked the brunette, he had no idea who this boy was ( _it’s tubbo!_ something screamed in his mind).

“ha… this is a bit, yeah? you’re tommy, and i’m your tubbo!” the brunette looked so close to hysterics. 

“tubbo…?” he tested the name, it felt familiar but so so strange on his lips. his… tubbo? his tubbo?

a few memories ( _hallucinations?_ ) trickled into his mind. sitting on a bench listening to a music disc ( _mellohi!_ ), hugging the brunette in front of him, and watching as a pink-haired man shot at tubbo.

“tubbo,” he choked out, “please i -- i don’t understand, i can’t remember anything, i just-- i just feel _his_ hands!” he latched himself onto _his_ tubbo, his only friend, his best friend ( _he worked for_ him).

“tommy, tommy what do you mean h- his hands? whose hands?” tubbo was crying now, and he could now vaguely remember that his name was tommy.

tommy shook his head, violently. he can’t think about _him_ if he did _he’d_ show up. that thought brought a heart-wrenching sob out from his lungs, tearing his throat.

“okay, that’s okay tommy. you’re safe here, yeah? he can’t find you here, we ran so far remember?” tubbo was rubbing his back. tommy recalled his older brother almost killing tubbo and tubbo and him running.

tubbo continued to whisper to tommy, and eventually, tommy was calmed enough to gather his things and go back to their cottage. he’s close to collapsing onto tubbo, and he’s so incredibly tired.

he’s being carried now, which is surprising. he never knew tubbo was that strong.

“we’re cuddling tonight, okay toms?” tubbo pretty much demands. he’s too tired to argue or even have his pride hurt. he lets himself be laid down and cuddled, and as he drifts to sleep all he can do is think about how much he loves tubbo.


End file.
